


Dark Mirror

by TheThievingMagpie



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: M/M, More To Come Maybe - Freeform, UST
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-11
Updated: 2019-05-11
Packaged: 2020-02-29 19:53:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,086
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18785077
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheThievingMagpie/pseuds/TheThievingMagpie
Summary: Caleb can sees echoes of himself in Essek despite their mutual distrust and trepidation - but there can be benefits to making a dangerous new friend.(Some UST for now)





	Dark Mirror

**Author's Note:**

> Edit: Edited for Mercer's spelling of Essek's name :)

Caleb knew that smile.  
  
The one that held up an air of pleasantry - kept things amiable. Polite on a knife’s edge. He had worn it himself often when he had been a different person. Essek Thelyss wore that smile as he held power in his straightened shoulders and charm on his tongue, finding quaint amusement in the remarks of these Empire folk. His confidence was deserved and intimidating.  
The Shadowhand had watched Caleb present the Beacon to the Bright Queen, had seen him support Nott before reuniting her with her husband, had seen his unbridled awe at the persistent darkness that the Dynasty maintained over Rosohna. He had watched this unfold with no more than occasional amusement, leaving Caleb to understand that he had openly expressed many vulnerabilities before this person he barely knew. For someone entering their second century, perhaps the Nein were more entertaining than most. Essek let his expression glide over the party easily in his inspection of their house-warming, but when Caleb willed himself to speak, he could feel the sharp gaze narrowing in on him to a pinpoint. He had turned to Caleb intently, lifting his chin, and despite Caleb’s own fumbling for permission to his magic, Essek let his smile grow with a quick flash of canines. His slender earrings touched his neck where his head cocked to the side in interest.  
  
_I can work with this_ , Caleb thought. From months of avoiding unfriendly notice, he fought the instinct to avert his eyes. He had to garner some impression now, if he wanted to get any secrets from this man at all. Caleb held his gaze, from the piercing grey eyes, to the dark, high cheekbones and felt his heart beat faster. He had Essek’s full attention, a snake waiting to strike. This could go very badly.

Essek had followed Caleb past the threshold quietly, the rest of the Nein keeping their distance as if expecting collateral damage. There was a persistent undercurrent he felt in waves: distrust. Perhaps even the house they were gifted was a way to keep track of them - these people from the Empire who became heroes overnight. It made sense. Caleb would have been more surprised if they had been rewarded and ignored. 

Now they were alone, and Caleb felt almost clumsy next to Essek's lithe grace, gripping the doorframe when turning left into the newly adopted library with sparse shelves and a secondhand desk. Caleb threw his coat over the back of a chair, releasing Dancing Lights as second nature rather than lighting candles, and hesitated as Essek lightly stepped into the room, observing it before landing his attention back to Caleb. In glances and posture, they were feeling each other out, circling without moving. Essek would know he had the upper hand, Caleb reasoned. Would perhaps find some enjoyment from taking a position of superiority over him and displaying rudimentaries of his skill that he expected Caleb couldn’t fathom. That was alright. Caleb wondered what his own appeal could be. As an outsider, perhaps - someone who had seen a world different from his own. Or even an oddity they did not often get to observe outside of combat. Surely Essek would not waste his time here, if he found humans that distasteful.  
  
As if from a hidden fold, Essek brought his tome from the air and it landed in his hand with a heavy thud of leather, face expressionless, though that in itself told Caleb much. He wants a reaction. He wants to be observed. He wants to be commended. It is what any prodigy needs to thrive yet would always refuse. Caleb would know. He brought out his own tome in a comparatively archaic manner, and this also, he knew, had its own intrigue to another of the arcane arts.  
  
Essek’s smooth voice filled the room. “Shall we begin?”  
  
“Where would you have me start?”  
  
Essek flipped to a page, placed it on the desk, and began to explain his craft. The “basics,” he said with a knowing smirk, of shifting reality. Of course, all magic changed reality to some degree, as Caleb could pull on change from the Weave like a net through water. Essek, however, spoke of time like a grid - of space like an illusion. You could travel through distance and place like passing through a veil, he said. These were the words of one who lavished in his work.  
  
“What is the placement of this rune?” Caleb asked.  
  
“It makes the spell work.” Essek replied dismissively. Illusive, always.  
  
“Of course, but what does it mean? _How_ does it work?”  
  
The Shadowhand only let that smile creep back onto his handsome face. He did not move his head, but let his eyes slide over to Caleb, appraising him. “You certainly are curious.”  
  
“Yes, I am.”  
  
“But you don’t need to know that. At least not yet.”  
  
Caleb almost wanted to argue. With understanding of these fundamentals he could begin his own tampering, but the eyes of a Drow were on him now, capable of seeing into the darkest tunnels of Xhorhas, and probably seeing every line of nerves on his face to boot. Caleb eased back and nodded.  
  
His pale, scarred, and inked hands flowed over the meticulous writing of Essek’s tome, as Essek’s dark and precise fingers pointed to the rough pages of Caleb’s journal as he wrote the spell, how to pronounce the semantics, how to understand the distribution of components. They were both subtly guarding the other pages.

"The time shift is within a certain area? There is no. . .plane shifting?"

"Time is always relative to space. It can stay contained."

"That is _fascinating._ " Caleb was almost breathless over the page. He only wished he could devour the whole tome.

The quality of Essek's smile changed - rather than smug, he seemed more like a man pleased to spill a secret to such an eager listener. He hovered over Caleb, never sitting down, his slight, robed form precariously close when Caleb sat up to continue questioning. He smelled of incense, perhaps from earlier ritual work. Their shoulders bumped as Essek leaned down to flip a page, comparing their notes as Caleb wrote them. Under the warmth of Dancing Lights, the tension of distrust was easing, but a different wire-string tension began to pull taut as Essek's warm figure continued to lean over him. Caleb couldn’t help but wonder at how his request had worked. Was it a trap to see this magic misused, like a smoking gun, pointing to Caleb?  
Or perhaps it was enticement - to demonstrate there was more to come, if he were loyal. Perhaps he was not even supposed to be learning this magic, but the Shadowhand couldn't resist.  
  
He already wanted more.  
  
“And there is this spell as well, if you’ve already finished the first.”  
  
“I have.”  
  
“Oh? You are an adept student.”  
  
Despite himself, Caleb felt a flush of heat wash over him. It was inexplicable. He had been complimented multiple times by the friends of his party, but it was hard for him to believe them. Did a dark elf even know the nuance of a pale complexion turning red? Perhaps. He could barely find a reply in his throat, and waved a hand. “I have a good memory.”  
  
“You were a student in the Empire? Or self-taught?”  
  
“Both.”  
  
“Hmm.” Essek continued to lean over him. “At least this work won’t be wasted on you.”  
  
“No, I’m grateful.”  
  
“Show me.” Caleb felt his pulse jump, glancing to Essek quickly. His confused blush had Essek’s smile curving higher. “Show me your gratitude in how you help the Dynasty. I’m interested in seeing what else your group can pull off.”  
  
Caleb gave a strangled laugh. “You and me both.”  
  
“You certainly made it sound easy.”  
  
“None of this is easy.”  
  
Essek, who had been so content to lord over Caleb, bent forward to rest his forearms on the desk beside him, catching Caleb’s full attention in light, silver eyes.  
“No. If it were easy, they wouldn’t need people like _us_ to do the dirty work,” he grinned. “But we don’t have to do any of this. We are privileged to do it. That is what it means to be an arcanist.”  
  
“I agree.”  
  
_Like us_ , he said, and Caleb’s mind snagged to Avantika - how Fjord had found an uneasy kindred in her, and had been willing to get close to learn more.  
Caleb swallowed. It wasn’t impossible. He had an angle he could work. Perhaps Essek was already playing the same angle, in how he leaned toward Caleb with a conspiratorial grin, grey eyes studying blue. Despite their placement, Essek did not feel foreign. He was all too familiar, his path a dark mirror to Caleb's own. Had Essek been hard disciplined to perfect his craft, as a “prodigy?” Had his temper broken in to be polite and charming, with venom beneath the surface? To have the success of the crown above all, and the pressure to impress always burning at the back of his mind? Certainly, the Dynasty didn’t make him kill his own family. Caleb reined in those thoughts.  
  
He let his mind drift, imagining the Weave that filled the space around him. It felt heavy in its new use, unfamiliar with this pull. Caleb opened his eyes and gave a slow wave, watching the opalescent drift of ripples through the air before Essek quickly caught his wrist.  
  
“Study that a bit more, before tampering with it,” he warned.  
  
Caleb looked from Essek’s slender wrist to his open face. “Are you worried?”  
  
“I’m precarious.” There was a pause as Essek released him, and Caleb lowered his hand.  
  
“You should be long past that, if you’re gifting me this knowledge,” Caleb replied.  
  
“Well,” Essek leaned his hip against the desk. “Don’t make me regret it.”  
  
“I wouldn’t expect regret from you,” Caleb started to grin. “I would expect retribution.”  
  
“You’re getting to know me so well already,” He smiled with some irony, though they were both well aware of this power play.  
  
“I'm sure we will get to know each other better. Your generosity will be put to good use, Shadowhand Essek Thelyss.”  
  
Caleb stood, and Essek regarded him once more, a little less subtle this time, as his eyes moved higher and lower than before. Caleb tried to will himself not to blush again, though he couldn’t know if he was successful. All he had from Essek was his usual amused grin.  
  
“If that’s all?” Essek asked. He hadn't moved as Caleb stood and they faced each other without much room. Caleb only nodded. “Well then, a pleasure to work with you, Caleb Widogast.”  
  
“May it not be the last time.”  
  
“We’ll see, shall we?”

  
With one last smile and bow, Essek left the room, running into Beau and Fjord in the foyer. Caleb listened in with some humor and secondhand embarrassment before leaning back against the desk and running a hand over his hair.  
  
He hadn’t truly realized how tense he felt under Essek’s hawk-like gaze until he was gone. He looked down at his hand, where the opalescence had flared out, and where Essek had grabbed him. He felt something there - an intrigue - though he didn’t know how far that interest dipped from Essek. He may have been one of the few humans Essek had encountered without trying to attack on behalf of the Dynasty. It may be professional curiosity of his race, or as a fellow arcanist. Or perhaps he merely wanted to see what would happen, like a cat playing with its food.  
  
Caleb let his mind’s eye wander. What would the Shadowhand do, if Caleb stood a little too close in his library, the air between them thick? Would he be scolded for being presumptuous, or would Essek also find a benefit in getting close to the humans he didn’t trust? Would he let curiosity get the better of him, and let Caleb feel that smug smile pressed against his own mouth? Let him feel the shorn hair at his nape under Caleb’s calloused fingers? It wouldn’t be difficult to let Essek’s practiced hands touch him. He didn’t think he’d feel guilty about it at all, and a handsome face made it easy. Caleb released a breath and stood once more. He had been untouched for far too long if the option seemed this appealing.  
  
He remembered Essek’s amused chuckle. “ _I’d like to see you try._ ”  
  
Well, after all, Caleb was known to play with fire.

**Author's Note:**

> I will continue to edit and add more as we learn more about Essek and Dunamancy through this campaign!


End file.
